There is dust gathering in my bonesfrom the proximity I have held you;dust gathering fromchugging red buses and stomps of elephant feet.I am unwicked candle wax for you,bent like a palm frondsheltering both from torrential rains and damp afternoon heat.Bent out of shape for the sake of you,I have melted for the scent of ripening… Continue reading
Author: dannasweidan
The folds in the skirts of the universe may afford me a short hop skip and a jump to maybe another place, another time, where i will not doubt the which tumbles into entropy around me. Maybe with some celestial clam diving by one overzealously self-contained burning gasball, into an abyss rifled with the catastrophe… Continue reading
The Drive Into Goa:
Village huts plastered in mobile adsrainclinging to the rest of the waterthat still hangs in the air,dropping slow.Men in dhottis climbing paddieslike the electrical towers that snake up the hills,entangledin the lush green of morning’s showers.If the stone is flat enough you will find plastered billsillegible andghostly of purpose.Near the bus stop (red clay and… Continue reading The Drive Into Goa:
on islands
the waters of colombo are tainted not with the dirty, but rather with deep footprints in mud holding fast the impression that you may walk on, walk on assured that change will not come. when with wave after wave and rain after rain, nothing washes the sticky heat off your neck, you turn to shady… Continue reading on islands
bite marks
I have reluctantly come to the conclusion in the past few years that my education and experience will do nothing for me because I don’t “know a guy”. Going off of sheer ability isn’t as common these days, not in such an intensely focused consumer driven product obsessed culture, where quality is surpassed by accessibility… Continue reading bite marks
All Natural
sticky little sugar crystals, stuck to my lip and my fingertips sticking grit sweet between top and bottom teeth, hiding the bitter taste of my lonely morning breath, grimey all unto itself. granules of sugar gritty and loud much better than the quiet of not kissing you good morning
Seasons
I bear witness to water for wading, Because in this day and age we can only afford famine or flood. And this water falls intending entendres engorging riverbeds And flowing with the freedom of that which moves with volatility. Water walks with ego rightfully, Having fed life into all of me And nurtured length in… Continue reading Seasons
Profanity
I rolled your joints all summer, licked the sugary glue and sealed in your Sleepy eyes and slow kisses. In the loosely knotted bindings that held together my ideas then About spared air and portraits of sea creatures, I sealed summer hopefully for good. I used the humid afternoons spent Rolling the tumbled words plucked… Continue reading Profanity
On gardening with ______
there were dandelions in the yard early this year,opening up short, close to the ground. bright yellow faces having barely burst from the dirt, they were eager to see you off in the morning. the dandelions last summer, they grew to be tall and strongforgotten by blades or brothers because we were biding timemissing the… Continue reading On gardening with ______
There is a hurt in my chest for every angry son and daughter of Jordan, marching in the dusty roads we have learned and lived on for so long. I don’t think anyone can fully understand the heavy heart with which you must cope, fighting with one hand for the rights you deserve as an… Continue reading
Garbanzo Bae 